


Sparks

by Moontyger



Category: Toaru Kagaku no Railgun | A Certain Scientific Railgun
Genre: F/F, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/pseuds/Moontyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Misaka prepares to apply to university, she has one last thing to resolve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Isabear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isabear/gifts).



Misaka Mikoto stared down at the application on her desk, pen in hand, and gritted her teeth. Today, she was really going to do it! She was going to fill this out and take it down to mail. Then in a few short months, she'd be out of this dorm and into a new one, ready to start college and her adult life.

Yes, she was ready. She nodded, lowered the pen, and started to write. But she only managed a few characters before she caught herself glancing over her shoulder more than at the papers before her.

Behind her, at her desk against the opposite wall, Kuroko was working as well. Mikoto didn't know the specifics, but it was probably her homework. From here, she couldn't see much, just her bent head, long hair spread over a straight, pajama-clad back.

Mikoto sighed and pushed the application away, tilting her head back and staring at the ceiling. What was she going to do?

It wasn't that she was afraid of university. She'd never had difficulties in school and she didn't expect to now. And she wasn't worried about getting in. If she lived elsewhere, she might be nervous and spending all her time cramming for entrance exams. But here in Academy City, Misaka Mikoto, the Railgun, had long ago passed the only test that really mattered. 

Maybe it would have been better if she'd only been worried about exams. As it was, all she could think of these days was Kuroko.

She sighed again and shuffled her feet under the desk, enjoying the tingle as static built up under them. How could she have been so stupid? For years, Kuroko had basically thrown herself at her. And she had rebuffed her at every step. She wasn't interested; had thought she'd never be interested.

But the joke was on her.

Thinking back on it, it was the year they spent apart that made the difference. They weren't apart in the sense that they never saw each other; they were still close and still spent most of their free time together. But no promises to be together, no afternoons eating crepes in the sunshine or shopping together could erase the fact that Mikoto was a year older. When she moved on to high school, Kuroko had been left behind.

It was only a year. It should have been nothing; they'd promised each other that it would be. But the Kuroko who moved in a year later wasn't the same. She'd changed her hair, declaring ponytails “not at all suitable for a high school student” and that was only the most minor of the changes. If she still wore skimpy lingerie, Mikoto never saw it. The few pairs of underwear she'd inevitably glimpsed during their time as roommates had been completely ordinary, just plain cotton like anyone might wear. And while Kuroko still called her _onee-sama_ , she dropped all pursuit. There was no more teleporting into the shower or stealing her panties. No sneaking up behind her to get in a grope; no unexpected hugs that were more like tackles. No hinting or outright invitations. It was as though she'd outgrown her interest along with her hairstyle.

At first, Mikoto had been relieved. She wasn't always braced for impact or looking over her shoulder, waiting and wondering what Kuroko would try next. Even when Kuroko briefly dated someone else, she hadn't minded. She'd thought they were finally the perfectly normal friends she'd always wanted them to be.

It was only after that that she began to realize that something was missing. Something not only absent, but an absence she felt deeply, even if she couldn't put a name to it. It was as though someone who had always been around had inexplicably disappeared, but there was no one missing at all.

If she'd been anyone else, she might have thought someone had messed with her mind, erasing memories or tampering with her emotions. But that was impossible. Not even Shokuhou could do that, not to her.

It took her longer than it probably should have for her to really put a name to what she felt. Kuroko always had said she was hopelessly childish; maybe she'd been right, though Mikoto still thought that was an exaggeration. So she still like stuffed animals and cute cartoon characters; lots of high school girls still did. And so what if she was bad – really bad – at this one thing? She'd realized how she felt now and that was what mattered.

Except that she didn't know what to do about it. She'd tried a few times – to say something, to touch Kuroko in even a slightly-more-than-friendly way – and somehow, she'd failed every time. Misaka Mikoto was not used to failure and she'd never been one to accept it.

Which didn't change the fact that she was here, on the other side of the room from the girl she wanted so badly to be close to, so frustrated she was sparking, tiny jolts of electricity lifting the ends of her hair. It would be so much easier if this were something her ability could solve! An obstacle to be blown up; someone to be taught a lesson. Someone to be saved.

But that would solve nothing at all. With a final sigh, she put the applications away in her desk. Enough of this. In a few months, Mikoto would graduate high school. She'd be an adult. It was time to get past this silly difficulty with voicing her feelings.

Tomorrow, she'd do something about it.

* * *

In this case, “do something about it” meant “ask Kuroko out on a date without actually naming it as such.” Which was fine as far as it went, except that this date looked exactly like all the other times they'd gone out when it was just the two of them.

They'd gone shopping first and now they'd ended up at the same family restaurant they always went to. Mikoto watched Kuroko daintily lick her spoon after she took a bite of her parfait and wished she were still the same girl who'd shared drinks with her friends without a care, completely ignoring Kuroko's fuss about secondhand kisses. They were all girls; that didn't apply, or so she'd thought. It had been so much easier then!

Of course, if she were still that girl, she'd never get anywhere. They'd be stuck in their current relationship forever. Which wouldn't be _bad_ ; she valued Kuroko's friendship above all else. But it would be stupid to stay just friends not because Kuroko had changed her mind, but because Mikoto had been too much of a coward to say anything.

She was nerving herself up to finally say it when, perhaps feeling the silence had gone on too long, Kuroko spoke. “Have you decided where you're going yet?”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“What's taking so long?” A blunt question, but Kuroko seemed honestly concerned, brown eyes peering into hers intently.

She didn't answer the question, not directly. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

Kuroko didn't hesitate. Her answer was prompt and direct. “I'll keep working with Judgment. It's not just students anymore and Anti-Skill can't handle everything.”

Mikoto smiled at that, a nostalgic expression that felt strangely unfamiliar, as though just talking about the future had already put distance between them, and nodded. Yes, that seemed like her. No matter how silly she could be at times, Kuroko had always taken her work with Judgment extremely seriously. They'd be glad of her help, too – teleporters of her power weren't that common.

“What about you?”

“Oh, I don't know.” She'd never thought about it much. Few of the students here had, not really. They'd come to Academy City, where they'd go to school and develop their ability. And after that? What after? Having an ability would solve everything. Especially if you were a Level 5, like her. That was the sole goal, their raison d'être. Anything else was superfluous.

But there had to be more to it than that. Eventually, she'd realized that and somewhere along the line, she'd developed a plan, a plan she hadn't even realized she had until she had to put a name to it. “I think I want to go into research.” Mikoto wasn't looking at Kuroko now, but she could feel her staring. “So much of the research here hurts people – I won't do anything like that. But there's so much potential here, too. I could really _help_ people, too.” She looked down at her fingers and made them spark, just a little, then up to meet Kuroko's gaze, and grinned. “And not just by electrocuting them.” Or by breaking into research facilities and blowing them up, erasing data and rescuing experimental subjects, or any of the other things she'd done. Not that that sort of thing hurt, but she was sure she could do more.

When they told her that her DNA map would help sick people, that had been a lie. But it didn't have to be. Mikoto could take that lie and turn into the truth she'd always wished it had been.

“If anyone can do it, it's you, _onee-sama_.” This reply was just as sure as the earlier one. Even after years of friendship, Kuroko never doubted her.

Which was, after all, one of the things Mikoto loved about her. She opened her mouth to finally say what she felt so strongly when she heard an insistent tapping on the window by their booth. She turned her head to see Saten and Uiharu outside the window, waving and grinning like mad.

 _This is why you don't go to the usual places to make your big confession._ It seemed obvious in retrospect. Of course they'd be interrupted. Everyone knew to find them here. And who declared their love in a family restaurant to begin with?

Still, even as she smiled and waved back, giving into the inevitable, she'd already come up with another plan.

* * *

It wasn't the first time Mikoto has asked Saten for advice and it probably wouldn't be the last. Unlike her, Saten would probably have a much harder time getting into any university in Academy City, but of all the friends she'd made in her years here, Saten was the one with the most common sense – and that was true even if she _did_ believe in urban legends.

“It must be serious if you wanted to talk to me alone,” Saten commented, carefully pouring tea for them both. She set the pot on the table and gave Mikoto an inquiring look.

“Oh, no. Not really.” Even now, years away from the innocent girl she'd once been, Mikoto blushed. She picked up the tea cup and held it in both hands, letting it warm her hands before she spoke. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“I wanted to know how you and Uiharu-san got together.”

“Ohh, I see.” Just that simple question and Saten already knew exactly what she meant. But that was why she came to her for advice, wasn't it? “How did it happen?” Saten tilted her head back, looking upwards, and raised a finger to her chin while she thought. “I suppose there wasn't really just one thing. It was more like one day, she just understood why I'd been flipping her skirt all these years.”

“Oh.” It was honest, but she couldn't keep the disappointment from her voice. That didn't seem likely to work for her.

“Though I guess I tried a few things first.”

Mikoto perked up again. “Like what?”

“Well, you know how Uiharu always wears those flowers in her hair. I thought maybe she knew a lot about them. So I did a lot of research on flower language and made her a new hairband.”

“What happened?”

“I forgot that I'd asked Uiharu about flower language before and she has some unique interpretations of it. I think she told me I'd said something about eating ice cream on an airplane.” Her cheeks were a little reddened at the memory, but she was laughing, too. If the misunderstanding had hurt at all, she was obviously long past it.

Mikoto laughed, too – she couldn't help it. “Did you ever tell her what you meant?”

“No, but I think she figured it out.” Saten sipped her tea and looked thoughtful again. “Shirai-san always used to try romantic things with you, but I don't think that's your style. You should figure out what is and go with that.”

Her style? Mikoto winced, thinking of the beat-up stuffed bear that was still on her bed and the frogs that still decorated anything she thought wouldn't be immediately obvious. Kuroko had always made so much fun of her for that kind of thing – surely she wouldn't really like it? “I don't think that would work.”

“Sure it will. If it's from the heart, she'll understand.” It was a hokey thing to say and she could tell from Saten's expression that she knew it, but she shrugged, as though to say it was hokey, but still true.

“From the heart,” Mikoto repeated. “I can do that.”

* * *

And so it was that two days later, she presented Kuroko with a giant stuffed frog, fully as big as her own bear, with a large red heart embroidered on the front. It had taken her that long to find just the right thing to give, something that spoke of her heart, not someone else's.

Kuroko took the frog and examined it carefully. She didn't laugh or immediately dismiss it. Instead, she looked at Mikoto with a serious expression and asked, _“Onee-sama?”_

“I thought you could use it – to hold while I'm away at university.” Kuroko still looked doubtful and Mikoto shook her head in frustration. What had she been thinking? She'd never been nearly as good with words as she was with actions. Why had she thought this would be different?

She reached out, gently took the frog from Kuroko's hands, and set it aside. From there, it was only another step to be right up against her. Before she could change her mind, she leaned forward, and pressed her lips to Kuroko's.

It was a little awkward; they were close enough in height that their noses bumped first and she wasn't sure what she should do with her hands. But Kuroko didn't push her away; she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Mikoto's neck.

It probably wasn't the best kiss, but it was the first one she'd wanted so much. When they finally parted, Mikoto noticed she was sparking again, tiny arcs of electricity moving from her to Kuroko and back. With someone else, maybe she'd have worried, but it was hardly the first time she'd shocked Kuroko and most had been much worse than this.

As for Kuroko, she was grinning and pulling her toward her bed. “Finally! I've been waiting for you forever!”

“You knew?” In that case, she could have said something. All that worry over nothing! Kuroko hadn't changed her mind at all.

Kuroko shoved her back on the bed and perched on her stomach. She started unbuttoning Mikoto's uniform shirt as she answered. “Of course! I told you – we're bound by the red thread of fate.”

Mikoto raised her hands and put them over Kuroko's to stop her. “I guess you were right.” It was funny, really. It had seemed so ridiculous to her, then, but Kuroko had been right all along. “But you don't have to rush. I won't change my mind.”

“You'd better not! I've waited long enough, _onee-sama_. I'm not going to do it again.” But her hands moved more slowly once Mikoto released them. She was still unbuttoning her shirt, but no longer with that frantic hurry.

“I won't. I'm not going anywhere.” 

It wasn't true: not literally. She was still going to complete her application and go off to university. She had a lot of work ahead of her. But she didn't have to clarify her statement, not to Kuroko.

“I know,” Kuroko agreed, and leaned over to kiss her again.


End file.
